The Prequel to Aperture
by DSnWiiRocks
Summary: The chain of events that led to the founding of Aperture- and the events of Portal/Portal 2.
1. Cave Johnson

The Prequel to Aperture

Chapter 1: Cave Johnson

This is July of 1938. And this guy was suited and was ready to attend college. His name is Cave Johnson. But why is he wearing a suit? It's dumb. He thought so too.

His father ordered it, he was a farmer that never farmed a day in his life, and now teaching in the same academy Cave was about to attend, about the theories of farming. But Cave never gained an inch of interest in farming, or something dirt-based. He thought it was "down right dirty." In fact, his only interest is Physics. That's the only thing he liked. Ever. His father bought a lot of toys, mostly wooden, for him to fool around when he was small. But his father noticed he'd never played with them, threw them away and never bought any more. But he liked watching them fall, the round ones slow down when they hit the walls. Besides that, he also drew a lot of "blueprints", which he hung on his walls, to aid his weird physics ideas: such as colored gels that replaces trampolines to be an excellent bouncing surfaces, or ones that can make people run much faster. Then he thought about a device that can link two spots and made them connected. Quantum Tunneling.

He packed and left his home with his suitcase. His father had left early for teaching purposes. And he's on his own. But he has went there dozens of times for preparation. Anyways, he went there once again and went through this gates. For real this time.

"Good morning, Cave Johnson!" called out some of his classmates like they've met for years. But Cave didn't say a single word back.

Those staff told me that I need to head to the second floor of this academy for my Physics class. Well, not really "my," but rather "the Physics class I have to attend." But I don't get it, the second floor is like a mile away for where I'm standing, and the facility did not install elevators. Seriously? And those blockheads can somehow stand it and WALK upstairs everyday. Like they deserve it. _DING! _Ah! The bell's rang. I'm late. Whatever. Had to stand those stairs for once. I finally got up there, and pushed the wooden door open.


	2. Caroline

The Prequel to Aperture

Chapter 2: Caroline

Who's this guy? He's just storming in the classroom. He looks unamused. He addresses the teacher, who is looking down on a bunch of papers on his desk. "Oh, we have a newcomer." The teacher asks this brown-haired guy to introduce himself. "This is Cave Johnson." He said. "Oh great," The teacher replied, "Cave, why don't you take a seat next to this girl named Caroline." Crap. It's me. "Caroline, put up your hand." Cave ordered, "I needa see you." Why is he ordering me? Anyways, I raised my hand. He saw me and raised his eyebrows. He looks surprised, shocked maybe. There's a vacant seat to the right of mine. He stumbles onto it. "My name is Caroline." I reach my hand out for a shake. He looks at me with great enthusiasm. "It's Cave…Cave Johnson." He stutters, and shook my hand. His hand felt cold.

"Uh… let's get started." I tried to steer it out. She is pretty as a postcard. Maybe in an academy with no elevators isn't so bad after all. This moment of silence is broken after the teacher starts talking about momentum. But I have no interest in hearing it. I'm still digesting this happiness my mind gave me with the appearance of Caroline. I lower my head onto my desk. Maybe listening to the teacher will probably make things better.

He's fine. I still don't get why he had such a shock. But he's calm after that. Not terrible. Only a little weird. Maybe he just want to be friends with me. How about I took the initiative and instead_ ask _him to be my friend? It should be fine. "You'll need to write an essay about Momentum." The teacher chimed. And suddenly, I felt cold, and no matter how many essays I wrote prior for this very first official one, I still have no idea. What should I do?

After the classes I invited Caroline downstairs for a break. We settled on the grass just outside the main facility. "How should I write my essay?" she asked. Then what my father taught me re-surfaces in my mind. _Do it from scratch, spare no expense, and never, ever, cut corners. _"I just can't do it!" she said, "no matter how many times I practiced…" _Do it from scratch_, my mind reminds me. "How about throw everything out the window and do it from scratch?" I suggested. "That's brilliant!" she commented, "Let's just start over on the essay!" She smiled at me.


End file.
